


Sherlock Gets Smart

by johnlockequalslove



Category: Get Smart - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Get Smart Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnlockequalslove/pseuds/johnlockequalslove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This spy-themed comedy, inspired by the hit show "Get Smart," will warm your heart with the antics of C.O.N.T.R.O.L. agents as they battle the evil deeds of K.A.O.S.. New episodes will air on Sundays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Reap What You Sew

Sherlock Holmes was mid-way through a night at the London Symphony when a phone started ringing. Rolling his eyes, he stayed put, determined to hear his favorite part of the concerto. After four rings and fourteen dirty looks, he stormed out in frustration and made his way to the coat check. He stepped inside with as much dignity as he could muster, pulled off his shoe, and answered it, “Hello, Agent 86 here.”

“Sherlock? It’s the Chief.”

“So you say, but how do I _know_ you’re the Chief. You could be bluffing. Many people do that, you know.”

A sigh came from the other line. “What would you like me to say, 86?”

“I’ll give you today’s sign and you give me the counter-sign.”

“Right, okay. Ready?”

“Chief, _I’m_ supposed to give the sign.”

“I know, Sherlock.”

“But you already said it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. ‘Right, okay. Ready?’ was the sign.”

“Oh...yes, I did say it then.”

The annoyance was evident in Sherlock’s voice. “You never let me say it.”

“Get. In. Here. Now.”

“Yes, Chief.”

Getting through the elaborate sliding door system was an ordeal, but the exasperated look from the Chief of C.O.N.T.R.O.L., also known as Greg Lestrade, was worth it every time. Sherlock strode into the office and took a seat. “You wanted to see me?”

“Sherlock, this is your first mission since the…incident with Agent K-13.” Sherlock interrupted silently by holding up his index finger.

“Chief, doesn’t protocol require that we use the Cone of Silence when discussing matters of counter-espionage?”

“The Cone of Silence? Sherlock, do we have to? It’s a routine mission.”

“Nevertheless, the protocol must be followed.”

“Since when have you become a fan of protocol?”

Sherlock grinned at that and replied, “Since it began to annoy you.”

Greg leaned forward and pressed the intercom button. “Donovan, could you please lower the Cone of Silence?” Her voice came over the speakers in a bored tone. “For the Freak? Yes, sir.”

Sherlock’s lips pursed slightly at the comment, but nobody was looking. The dual plastic half-spheres, connected by a cylindrical tunnel lowered over the heads of the men. Sherlock was the first to speak. “What are the details of the case?”

The Chief looked confused and tilted his head as if he couldn’t quite hear. “What?”

“Details!”

“The multi-millionaire, Lawrence Needle, has been selling national security information to K.A.O.S. We need you to find out how he’s doing it.”

“What?” This time, it was Sherlock’s turn to be perplexed.

Greg slammed his finger on the intercom button, but managed to calm his voice before speaking into the mic. “Donovan, raise the Cone of Silence and tell the techs to test it again.”

The Cone was raised and Sherlock remained seated, his curls perfectly in place. So composed, it was infuriating. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“We recently received a tip that Lawrence Needle is selling national security information to K.A.O.S., the organization dedicated to spreading evil around the world. You need to find out how he’s getting the information to them.”

“By Lawrence Needle, I’m assuming that you’re referring to the multi-millionaire who made his living in retail?”

“Yes. You’ll also be working with a new partner this mission, after the loss of your previous partner, Agent K-13. May he rest in peace.” Greg looked very serious. “We’re trained not to have any personal…attachments, but if I had any children, I’d like them to be as close as you and Redbeard were.”

Sherlock stiffened. “New partner? I don’t need a new partner. I’ve worked alone before.”

“We understand that, but this mission needs two pairs of eyes. You will be working with Agent 99. Here he is.”

Sherlock stood and, at the sound of the door opening, instinctively bent over slightly, half-hoping that it had all been a bad dream and that his hands would be able to touch familiar fur once again. He was astonished to find another man staring back at him instead, trying his best to look unassuming. Sherlock quickly straightened and drew his long coat around him like a shield.

Greg hastened to make introductions. “John, this is Agent 86. Sherlock, this is your new partner, 99.” The unconcealed disdain on Sherlock’s face made his position on the matter painfully apparent.

John was the first to break the awkward silence. “Hello. We think that the operation is going through his warehouse of clothing items, but we have no real evidence yet…” He trailed off, fiddling with his grey suit jacket.

Sherlock’s gaze travelled up and down his new partner’s body, looking for clues that may lead to deductions that may lead to him being so put off that he never wanted to speak to Sherlock again, much less work with him. “You’re a former military man, recently back from deployment. How are the nightmares?”

There was an audible gasp from behind 99, followed by a scoff. “He’ll do that, you know. He’ll make you hate him so much that you can’t stand it. The only other agent who would put up with this freak wasn’t even human and now he’s…” Donovan stopped short when she saw the glare from her Chief. She muttered a half-hearted “sorry” before disappearing into the front office.

Greg smiled tightly. He’d expected the first meeting to go poorly, but not _this_ poorly. “Well, if that’s everything, I have work to do. Sherlock, you do realize that you’ll be facing every sort of danger imaginable?”

Sherlock smiled, a gleeful smile that brought to light the smile lines around his lips. “And loving it.”

On the drive over, the men agreed, using as few words as possible, that they would pose as potential clients to provide a plausible excuse for inspection of the clothes. They were ushered into an office where they finally met the man himself. Lawrence Needle was a wiry man, who looked more like a pencil in a suit than anything else. “So, Mr. Smart, is it?”

Sherlock looked up at the mention of his alias. “Yes, I’m Mr. Smart and this is my colleague, Mr. Lawton. We represent a small boutique shop that sells only the highest quality garments and we were interested in you as a designer for a special line of clothing.”

Mr. Needle smiled. A predatory smile that showed entirely too many teeth. “Of course, Mr. Smart. Please, come and inspect my handiwork. It’s of the finest quality, I assure you. You won’t mind if I take my bodyguard with me, will you? Of course not. He comes with me everywhere.”

Sherlock moved warily, fingering a seam ripper, his only weapon besides John’s Browning pistol. He knew it was a risky move, but he was confident in his knowledge of judo and jujitsu if combat became necessary.

Leading the men to the second floor, Mr. Needle showed them the silk skirts, cotton button-downs, and slim-cut jackets that had made his company famous. In feeling the fabrics, Sherlock began to develop a hypothesis.

On their final stop, Sherlock came to a sudden halt and seized the nearest item of clothing, a navy blazer. John lashed out, kicking the bodyguard’s legs from under him, and pulling his gun, shouting, “Don’t anybody move or I’ll shoot!”

Sherlock, meanwhile, stood like a pillar of serenity in the midst of the chaos and used the seam ripper with precise movements on the lining of the jacket. He flipped it over and read it. “Aha! You knew you couldn’t smuggle the information to K.A.O.S. any other way, so you resorted to your clothing as the method of transport. The lining idea is really rather ingenious, but I figured it out as soon as I saw that the monogram on your blazers was unusual. K-A-O-S. Those letters join to spell, all together now--”

“--K.A.O.S.,” the other men finished for him, John enthusiastically, the others begrudgingly.

“Just a minute, Mr. Smart, or whoever the hell you are. You’ve forgotten one crucial thing. I have a truck waiting for me just outside of this second-story window for me to make my escape.” The guard took advantage of his boss’ speech to wrestle with John for the gun, leaving the mastermind unguarded. “So long, Mr. Smart. I do hope you won’t try to follow me.” And with that, he gracefully leapt out of the window, as Sherlock rushed towards it just in time to watch his descent.

Sherlock smiled once more and spoke to no one in particular, “He missed it by _that_ much. Well, I suppose the saying is correct. Mr. Needle really did reap what he sewed.”


	2. Our Men on the Dance Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a mission requires dance skills, Agents 86 and 99 are put to the test. Featuring Ballet!Lock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting what I have in order to be on time for the challenge, but it should be seen as more of an intro, which I will update tomorrow night with the full mission. This past week has been an unexpectedly hectic week at school and I didn't get the time I wanted to write. So, I apologize sincerely to all my supporters. Just know I have not forgotten about you. <3

“Agent 86, it says on your dossier that you are trained in ballroom and ballet dancing. Is that correct?”

“It is. I was formally trained in ballet from the age of 6 and in ballroom from age 10. I have danced competitively in ballroom. Attend.” He then executed a perfect pirouette with his arms forming a graceful arc over his head. However, when he brought his hands down as he was coming out of the turn, he accidentally smacked Greg in the face. 

“Sherlock!” he shouted, hand flying up to cover his cheek.

The destructive dancer landed gracefully on both feet again and grinned, “Apologies, Chief.” He didn’t even look sorry.

“Lucky for you, I need you for a mission. All other agents besides you and 99 are busy this week with the elections coming up. A KAOS informant and dance enthusiast, Felix Kraft, is going to attend a performance tonight and I need you and Agent 99 to follow him. If the situation becomes…violent, you are authorized to defend yourselves in whatever way you see fit.” 

“Right, there’s just one thing that’s not believable about this situation.”

“What’s that, 86?”

“99. He does not know how to dance. I read his file, well, the portions you gave me. There is absolutely no mention of dancing.”

“Agent 99 is in prime medical condition. He is certainly capable of any physical activity that you may require." 

A voice sounded behind Sherlock. “Just what sort of physical activity are you referring to?” John stood there, drawn up in perfect military posture. “You mean dancing? I assure you that my previous partners have never had complaints. On the dance floor or in the bedroom.” A hint of a smirk lingered on his face as he watched Sherlock for a reaction. Sherlock, to his credit, refused to give him any.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the ACD, BBC, or NBC characters or references. For those who may be disgruntled at John's silence, rest assured that there will be more lines for him in the next episode, so tune in!


End file.
